Scandalous
by Hell's-FunnyHome
Summary: A dream can lead to so many things. Most of the time we don't understand them, but many times they are simply telling us our subconscious desires. But who are we to desire anything, when our lives belong to one man? - Come and see what has become of the life of Gotham's musical protégé after being taken by the Joker. - Sequel to "Music & Mayhem"
1. Chapter 1

_As the symphony opens, I picture Dvorak at the stern of the ship that carries him to America, away from his country. As the land drifts out of sight, he is suddenly jarred by the thought of the unknown with a blast from the French horn._

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><p><strong>"Are you ready Ms. Mendoza?"<strong>

**Ready for what?**

**"You have to push!"**

**I don't understand...what's going on? Why can't I see?**

**"Maybe she has stage fright?" Another voice said.**

**"Nah, a big-time talent like her? It's probably just the drugs kickin' in." Replied the first voice.**

**Stage...? Drugs...? What the hell is going on?**

**"In that case, better check her reaction to light, make sure it's nothing serious."**

**A brilliant light beamed directly into my clouded stare, providing a mere second of vision only to blind me again; this was much more painful.**

**"She's reacting negatively to the light stimulation!"**

**"Well, duh, lower the quantity of effulgence rays! You're gonna blind her, not that she'd be missing anything. The city has really gone to shit since Batman died."**

**Wha-?**

**The light dimmed as what now appeared to be orderlies kept speaking. A humming rang in my ears, drowning out the voices as my sight slowly returned. I was on a hospital bed...no...a gurney. I was on a gurney but we weren't moving anywhere. A giant lightbulb shone overhead, glowing dimly in front a long row of stage lights farther back and above. My hands and arms lay loosely next to me on the bed, needles imbedded deep into my veins, attached to many tubes that hung all around me.**

**"H-help..." I tried to whimper, but my throat was dry. I tried to signal with my hands, but they refused to move. Nothing I did caused a reaction from the men standing next to me, not until I felt a deep resonance deep within me; an intense heat between my stomach and my pelvis.**

**It was at that moment when I realized that the pain was coming from the large globe that protruded from under my terracotta dress; the signature dress I wore for every outing I took with _him_.**

**The hum in my ear slowly faded and became a beeping, as my memory came back. The death of Batman at the hands of Killer Croc, the rampage on Gotham city caused by a disbelieving Joker, discovering my pregnancy, Cat-Woman kidnapping me and handing me over to Nightwing as a peace offering, the blood...the blood...**

**"Oh God, the blood! She's hemorrhaging! This baby's coming out NOW!"**

**"My baby...my...baby...save...baby..."**

**"We're trying to Ms. Mendoza, but you have to help us, alright?"**

**I could only nod.**

**"Alright, the first thing you have to do is relax, breathe, take deep breaths...Atta girl!" He stroke my head, easing the pounding and earning himself a calming smile. "Alright, now, we have to know something, ok?"**

**I nodded again, focusing on my breathing and the man's face.**

**"Where is the Joker?"**

**What?**

**My face tensed as I felt a contraction surge through me. I shook my head as he caught me unaware.**

**"It's a simple question Ms. Mendoza, where is he?"**

**I continued to shake my head in confusion, my eyes closing as each contraction threatened to tear my body.**

**"I can nearly see the head!" Cried out the man's companion from between my thighs.**

**"Do you hear? You're baby's almost here! Quick! Tell me where the Joker is before you pass out!"**

**"I don'...I don't...know..." I cried out weakly, my teeth grinding together.**

**I screamed, my eyes flying open and my attention focused on the wild eyes of the male nurse next to me. One of his hands was held tightly around my jaws, compressing so tight I could already feel my jaw threatening to break, while his other hand was gripped firmly around the tube attached to my vein.**

**"Listen here you pretty little troubadour! All these nice people paid to see the Devil's Whore give birth to a bastard buffoon. Now, we just want to know where he is, that's all. Otherwise, Pogo here is gonna have to cut himself out a nice little stillborn, and we wouldn't want that now would we? No, so you better tell us where the Joker is, or the baby's the first thing to go!"**

**My eyes scanned the room, an abrupt clarity showing me that there were, indeed, hundreds of people cheering and laughing, sitting in familiar seats. The view I had was familiar in itself, reminding me of an auditorium I had played in once, many years ago...the first time I saw Joker.**

**"J-Joker..." I managed, the pain in my pelvis a dull ache now.**

**"Yeah, that's right. Tell us where he is or the baby gets it." The nurse waggled his eyebrows.**

**"He's...right..."**

**"Yeah? Yeah?!"**

**My hand tried to raise itself; it tried to point to a laughing audience member in the front. "Right th–AH!" I screamed, feeling as if all of my organs emptied from inside of me.**

**"It's a boy!" Exclaimed the man between my legs.**

**A boy...my boy...**

**"Give me my boy..." I asked for weakly.**

**"Now don't think just because the bastard came too early that he's safe. Tell us where the Joker is or we'll shoot the poor baby." The orderly laughed, pulling out a gun from seemingly nowhere as assurance.**

**My eyes swelled up with tears and my hands unclenched themselves. I didn't know where Joker was; hadn't known for months since he left to go chase after a distant memory. Batman was dead and the Joker might as well be too. "Please, just let me see him and I'll..." I swallowed the built up saliva in my mouth. "I'll tell you everything I know."**

**"C'mon Pops, let 'er see the kid. What's she gonna do? Run away with 'im? She's strapped down. 'Sides, if she spills now, we'll be the heroes of Gotham!" The man between my legs laughed, casually wrapping my baby in a light beige towel. The bloodstains from the birth only helped to further worry me, taking in their threats as seriously as I could anything.**

**They handed the baby to me, the sounds of laughter from the audience down to a murmur, but all I could focus on was my baby. Laughing, could you imagine that? Just like his father, having just gone through a traumatic experience and smiling as if his toothless grin could solve everything. His eyes were a deep chocolate brown, flecks of green riddled throughout. His mouth was thin but wide, the lower lip a bit thicker than the top. His nose was small, but sharp. His skin was pale, paler than I would have expected for a child with half of my genes. In fact, he looked nothing like me at all, he was a living replica of his father.**

**"So waddaya wanna call it?"**

**My head turned up to the gentler of the two. "I don't know yet."**

**"Well you can call him Dead soon if you don't start answering questions. We ain't got all day y'know," the obvious leader of the two scratched the back of his head with his gun. "Besides, with a kid like that, who needs the Joker around! S'not like he's gonna be any help anyway."**

**"You wanna know where the Joker is?" I started straight into my baby, who was cooing and looking right back at me. "I'm surprised you haven't noticed already. He's been with us the entire time."**

**"What?" The two male nurses looked at one another.**

**"Yeah, he's been here, the entire time. In fact, you've been helping him without even realizing it."**

**"Stop talkin' shit lady! Tell us where the Boss is or we'll blow your freakin' head off!" The gun pressed against my forehead.**

**I turned up to look at them, a peaceful and content look on my face. "You two should really pay attention. Have you learned nothing. Here you have me hooked up to this bed, my legs spread open for all of Gotham to see. Not even a jist of Mozart playing in the background, how will my baby every surpass you two apes in intelligence if he doesn't start early?" I sat up, stretching my arms into the air. "I mean honestly, this _whole_ charade could have been prevented if you had shown me just a little bit of respect, but all you wanna do is bother me, a new mother, with your stupid questions. You wanna know where Joker is?" I paused, just long enough to raise my baby in front of the nurses' confused faces. "Say 'Hello!'" I pressed the plastic button on my baby's tummy. "And 'Goodbye!'"**

**My baby started roaring with laugher.**

**The Joker's laugh.**

**Then everything went white again...**

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><p><em><span><strong>Please Review!<strong>_

_**AN: (August 26, 2014)**** I've decided to break up the story because it reads better this way. With the emotions I'm trying to portray, I think a bigger break than a line is necessary, but the rest will be up again I promise!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_This slow introduction conveys many emotions — sadness, fear, suspense, even a ray of hope — in its brief 23 measures, until Dvorak eventually chooses which main melody will take over the main part of the movement. A nostalgic folk tune provides simplicity and variety, leading to the second theme, which is really a variation of what came before, illustrating Dvorak's inventiveness with melody._

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><p>I awoke calmly, with only my breathing out of place, slightly altered due to my confused state. The ceiling was as it usually was: off-white and staccato, making me wonder if it were to ever fall on us, would I die of the weight or would I bleed out from being stabbed by the hundred of little peaks that poked.<p>

Heh.

I carefully led my eyes to my belly; it was a bit soft, but not abnormally so. To my left slept a snoring Joker, clad only in his smiley face boxers, on his belly, legs sprawled on the mattress. To my right sat my viola, laying on a dusty table, though there was very little on the instrument itself.

I lifted my uncovered legs over the side of the bed, not caring for when the bed gave a loud cry in protest. Joker was both a heavy sleeper and a light sleeper, only waking up for the most random, albeit consistent, moments; Batman approaching, a window opening, me trying to eat a midnight sandwich only to have him steal it right before I could even get a bite in. Otherwise he was dead to the world. I could dance all around the room, have a full on concert and he wouldn't budge.

As it was, that's what I wanted to do; not have an entire concert, mind you, but I did want to play a bit.

My hands stroked the instrument, appreciating the craftsmanship of the Italian violinist who lost his life in my pursuit of this Stradivarius. I could have easily bought it, with all the money there was laying around, but Joker felt it an unnecessary expense; though with the way he gushed about the act I would have thought he had planned a Valentine's Day present instead. Of course, it _did_ end the way most Valentine dates end; both of us going at it like rabbits.

I discovered that day that Joker is really fascinated by my instrument.

Also I love when he uses his knives to fuck me silly.

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><p><em><span><strong>Please Review!<strong>_

_**I've decided to break up the story because it reads better this way. With the emotions I'm trying to portray, I think a bigger break than a line is necessary.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_The New World Symphony's best-known melody surfaces in the "Largo" movement, with its aching English horn solo. But I'm always moved by the church-like chords that come before that now-famous tune. In a stroke of innovative genius, Dvorak brings these opening chords back at the climax of the finale, where all of the melodies from the symphony, reappear, transformed by the journey._

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><p>My fingers traced the S-shaped sound hole at the front of the instrument, a delicate yet important addition to any string instrument, without which the sound could not vibrate and escape properly, thus losing the resonance and voice in the instrument.<p>

"Well, aren't ya gonna play for me?" A deep peppy voiced questioned.

"I was waiting for you to wake up."

"Why?"

I turned to sit on the table, grabbing my viola and hugging it against my lap. "Y'know, I suddenly lost the urge to play."

"Y'know," he giggled. "I suddenly lost the urge to hear you play, so why don't you, uh, come over here and we can make some music of our own?"

I smirked, putting the instrument aside and walking over to straddle him on the bed. He grabbed my long hair, pulling my head down in order to whisper in my ear, "play me instead."

Pulling my underwear to the side, Joker slid inside of me before I was ready; picking a slower pace as I adjusted to the lack of lubrication. The dry sensation felt raw and powerful, pleasurable as it was painful. I moaned breathily, my hands gripping on to the arms that held on to my waist. As I rocked myself over him, my clit stimulated by his pelvis and bringing me closer to ecstasy with each gyration, I felt him finger at the scar on my back that replicated a vital part of my instrument.

"You were talking in your sleep again," Joker groaned, my pace picking up.

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah." He licked his lips, watching me take him in and squeeze him out.

"What was I sayin'?" My head thrown back and my eyes closed, I barely focused on the conversation. My mind focused, instead, on the growing climax.

"Somethin' 'bout a baby." His teeth gleamed as his smile widened. "Is that what you want? Hmm? A baby?"

"Baby?" I asked confused, my eyes furrowed together and my hands tightening over his arms with each press against my pearl.

"You want..._my_ baby?"

"Your baby?" I slowed a bit as the information started to sink in. My breathing was hard, my breasts heaving.

"No! Don't stop, you gotta keep moving if you wanna have a baby!" He grabbed my hips and started moving them on his own. My climax was too close for me to argue now and all I could feel was the deep pulsing of his member's head getting ready to explode.

_A baby...It's a boy!_

I grabbed Joker's hand and placed it over the bouncing mound on my chest. My core sucked him in, driving him deep with each thrust, demanding his finish.

"Oh fuck!" I cried out, my mouth unable to project the multitude of thoughts racing in my head. "Fuck, yes!"

As my hips raced faster, I fell forward using only my hips to bounce on his length, and he chuckled deeply. My heart was pounding and my breathing was staggered, sometimes stopping altogether in an attempt to focus on the explosion.

Joker pulled his hardened and pulsing length from out of me, I whined feeling suddenly empty barely focusing on the fact that he now straddled me, his legs on the outer side of my thighs and allowing him to bend over me completely. His hand took both of my wrists and held them over my head, but it wasn't until I felt him pull me lower on the bed and hunch over me that I opened my eyes. His pupils were fully dilated and his mouth was pulled up into a manic grin, breath laboring to come out, just as mine was. Joker lowered his head to mine, claiming my lips and bruising them in the process.

Everything about him was intense and I fucking loved it.

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><p><em><span><strong>Please Review!<strong>_

_**I've decided to break up the story because it reads better this way. With the emotions I'm trying to portray, I think a bigger break than a line is necessary.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_In the scherzo movement that follows, Dvorak explores the dance rhythms and melodies of his heritage. They feel new and fresh, yet familiar at the same time. It contrasts with the finale, which begins with a newfound urgency, setting up the nobility and majesty of the main melody heard in the brass._

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><p>I felt him take my lower half with his available hand, hoisting it up to push himself in me. Not bothering to stop now, Joker simply began pounding into me fast and hard. There were no jokes now, no conversation, it got to my favorite part of our sexcapades. He was close and his movement began to reflect as his hips started to become shorter and deeper, a man's natural and perhaps unbeknownst desire to plant his seed deep inside of a womb in order to procreate. Even Joker was nothing but a man when it really came down to it.<p>

I groaned deeply, his ragged lips having never left and grinning over mine. With a final bite of my lower lip, Joker exploded inside of me; it was an unexplainable sensation to have his hot spunk deep inside of me.

It burned, yet it was a satisfying sensation. As if I had been fed a healthy sample of happiness, breathlessness, and desire, all at once. It was a reminder of how fully a person could contaminate another's body and mind, and how much freedom one could possess by simply letting go.

I allowed my mind to wake from its' temporary sex-fogged-stupor. The chipped ceiling seemed to move, Joker's curly green hair dripped sweat onto the pillow beneath me, the score sheet of Dvorak's _New World Symphony_ taped to the wall behind me.

Closing my eyes, I unknowingly let out a contented whimper, listening to his heavy breath so opposite of my own. It was like the repetitive melodies in the piece that lay above me and for a moment I could hear the full orchestra. A fugue of trumpets, violins, timpani...it was all so beautiful.

Joker continued to hold my wrists together, above me, but his other hand slowly released my hips, traveling it up my sides instead. His overpowering stare remained, he grin not disappearing but losing some of it's harshness.

Suddenly I was transferred to a different world, a home where I floated on clouds that moved in time with whispering harmonies, none too loud nor too soft. I lay on the heavenly mass, wisps of air caressing my body, dancing on my skin. Like a ballet, the wisps danced lightly, gently jumping across my dermis, hopping and playing. I giggled in happiness.

A solemn pair of airy tendrils came together across my chest, hugging and twirling together. They frolicked down my chest until they came to rest above my navel. They began to pivot round and around, creating a twisting pressure on my stomach. I wanted to brush them off then, but my body would not listen. Instead, they kept twisting and turning, spinning so quickly they began to dig into my belly, digging into me.

I must have fallen asleep.

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><p><em><span><strong>Please Review!<strong>_

_**I've decided to break up the story because it reads better this way. With the emotions I'm trying to portray, I think a bigger break than a line is necessary.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_The New World Symphony is for me, above all, a journey — Dvorak's own spiritual and emotional journey: from his intense longing for his beloved Bohemia to the thrill of the "new world" and its varied peoples, to thoughts of going home._

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><p>I opened my eyes then, a gasp escaping my lungs.<p>

Pain. I felt pain. The same resounding pain I felt in my nightmare earlier in the evening. That intense heat between my stomach and my pelvis.

I couldn't scream, but my eyes were clearly giving away my confusion to the pair of bright hazel eyes that stared back at me.

"Shh, Shhh, Shush!" Joker cut me off before I could procure any questions. "Maestro, you were getting ahead of yourself!"

Swallowing away the burning feeling from my body I attempted again to speak. "..I...I...hurt..." I said weakly.

"Well, _yeah_," Joker rolled his eyes. "But a mother will give in to any sort of pain, _wont they_?" He questioned me darkly.

I felt a wet but solid object caress my collarbone. A knife.

"You see, uh, Maestro, while I appreciate the fact that you are just like any woman with a biological clock," Joker started sheepishly. "I can't have any sort of unplanned timers waiting to explode..." He cackled. "See, only _I _can decide _if_ and _when_ that clock is gonna run out!" He laughed at his own inane joke. He let go of my wrists and the knife, sat back on his knees with my legs straddling his hips.

The movement was excruciatingly painful, especially considering he was still inside of me and it was an awkward sensation, but this was also the perfect angle to see what exactly he had done to me now. _Of course...I should have known._

I smiled, touching my belly and gently feeling for the bleeding wounds. Two S-shaped gashes dug deep into my abdomen, replicating the vibration holes of my lovely instrument.

Just like the ones on my back, these were a work of art, making me more beautiful to him.

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><p><em>When all the melodies return at the end of the symphony, I feel as though the adventure has come full circle. The end reminds me of an old film where the last scene is frozen and the circle of the lens closes in until a black screen is all that remains.<em>

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><p>"I couldn't have asked for a better encore to my life, Maestro, but you should know better than anyone," Joker said, setting my body onto the bed and off of him. "No matter how great a masterpiece, they all have to end sometime." The. he bellowed out a loud and psychotic laughter.<p>

There couldn't have been a sweeter song to be my last.

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><p><em><span><strong>Please Review!<strong>_


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